


Fourteen Christmases

by Clea2011



Series: Fourteen Christmases [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: 2014 Holiday Fic-Tac-Toe, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 11:02:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 7,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3065432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clea2011/pseuds/Clea2011
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the moment Merlin and his mother came to live at the Pendragon mansion, Merlin knew he wasn't going to get along with the horrible boy who already lived there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Christmas 2001

**Author's Note:**

> These are a series of linked drabbles and ficlets for the Merlin Writers Community's Holiday Bingo. Each prompt was a picture. There are actually only 9 prompts, but leaving the gaps between the years didn't work very well, story-wise. My bingo card is here: [Link to Live Journal](http://clea2011.livejournal.com/122115.html) The various pictures used as prompts for each ficlet are at the bottom of their chapter, where applicable.
> 
> At the start, Arthur is 7 and Merlin is 6.
> 
> \---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“But Mum…” Merlin was on his hands and knees, peering into the fireplace. “There’s bars across it. How’s Santa going to get through with my presents?”

Merlin didn’t like his new home. His mother had been hired as live-in housekeeper to Uther Pendragon and his son, Arthur. Merlin didn’t like Mr Pendragon, and he liked Arthur even less. The boy took up far too much of his mother’s time and was always there, waiting to be mean to Merlin. He was standing watching him smugly now.

“Santa will find a way,” Hunith smiled, smoothing his hair fondly. “Isn’t that right, Arthur?”

As if Merlin cared what Arthur thought. But Arthur beamed at Merlin’s mother, and nodded angelically.

As soon as Hunith had left the room though, Arthur stopped smiling. He was a year and a half older than Merlin, in the school year above him, and thought he knew everything.

“Santa won’t come down the chimney,” he told Merlin. “Not because of the bars on the fire. He won’t come down because he’s _not real_. My father says only silly babies think he’s real.”

Merlin hated Arthur.


	2. Christmas 2002

It was a puppy.

Merlin had always wanted one. A gorgeous, adorable golden retriever puppy, every bit as cute as the ones in the toilet paper adverts. This one was perfect.

But of course, it wasn’t Merlin who was getting one. It was Arthur. Big, spoiled Arthur who always got everything he wanted.

Merlin gazed longingly as the excited pup ran round and round the room yapping happily. He only smiled again when he saw it pee down Arthur’s leg when Arthur picked him up.

“Merlin,” his mother warned quietly.

Merlin dutifully went back to opening up his own presents, trying not to smile when Arthur’s mean dad told him to go and change.

He felt it was justice for all the Santa comments Arthur was _still_ making.

 

 


	3. Christmas 2003

Hunith gave a heavy sigh. It was their third Christmas at the Pendragon house, and her boys were still not getting along any better than they had on that first one.

Merlin didn’t like her referring to them as ‘her boys’, getting possessive over the fact that she was _his_ mother and not Arthur’s. He’d even said as much in front of Arthur when they’d been living there a few months. There had been tears and sulking and… yes, it really was like sibling rivalry sometimes. Mr Pendragon had even called her into his study and told her off about her heartless and out of control son. It was strange, because to everyone else her little Merlin was sweet and kind-hearted. Arthur just seemed to rub him up the wrong way. Not that it wasn’t mutual.

Christmas, for some reason, was always worse.

After the Santa incident that first year, there had been an unfortunate comparison of presents. Hunith had only just started her new job, and hadn’t been able to afford to give Merlin as much as she would have liked. Then last year there had again been a lot of teasing about Santa and people who believed in him. It had been followed by a large lump of coal that had mysteriously appeared in Arthur’s bed…

A joke was a joke, but it had taken ages to get those sheets clean, and it was Hunith who had to deal with it.

Last year, Arthur had been given a puppy as his Christmas present, and again Merlin had been envious. However, despite Arthur’s best efforts, the puppy clearly preferred Merlin, largely because Merlin secretly fed him treats while Arthur was trying to teach him the kind of discipline that was required in the Pendragon household. He was succeeding to an extent, but the pup was wilful, and the treats weren’t helping.

By this Christmas, Shadow (which Merlin said was a stupid name for a blond dog, but which Arthur obviously thought sounded cool) was almost fully grown and both boys adored him. Not so much each other.

“Mum!” Merlin came running into her kitchen, little arms flailing with complete lack of coordination. “He’s stolen my chocolate biscuit and eaten it!”

She didn’t need to ask who. Arthur was following, looking cross.

“I didn’t!” he protested. “Merlin’s had his dirty fingers on it. Why would I want it?”

“He did! I put it on the table, and now it’s gone!”

“I’m sure Arthur just thought it was his, darling. Here,” she took two out of the tin. “Go and give one to Arthur and the two of you can make friends.”

“I don’t _want_ to be friends with _him_. And now he’s had _two_ biscuits!”

Shadow was sitting in the doorway to the kitchen. Hunith was quite impressed by how well Arthur had trained him. The dog knew that he wasn’t to come in, so he sat there, head on paws, watching them. One of the boys had put a Santa hat on his head and he didn’t even try to shake it off. But he perked up, Hunith noticed, when Merlin had those two biscuits in his hands.

“I really didn’t take it,” Arthur told her seriously. Arthur was many things, she’d noticed, but never a liar.

“I know, sweetheart.” She nodded towards Shadow, who was quite mesmerised by Merlin and the biscuits. “But I think I know who did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (If Merlin Holidays isn't revealed before the 3rd January, then this ficlet will also fill my hc bingo final square 'theft')


	4. Christmas 2004

“Snow!”

Merlin’s excited cry, and Shadow’s resultant enthusiastic barking dragged Arthur away from his brand new Nintendo DS.

Merlin was fidgeting impatiently as his mother bundled him up in a thick coat, hat, scarf and gloves. Arthur didn’t bother with anything more than a coat, because he was ten and much bigger and tougher than Merlin anyway. He strode out of the front door, Shadow darting ahead of him as soon as the door was opened and then stopping outside to nose at the snow curiously.

It was actually quite cold, Arthur realised after a few moments. He contemplated going back for gloves, but then he saw Merlin coming out after him, all bundled up against the weather and decided it was a perfect opportunity. He scooped up a handful of snow, tried to ignore how icy it was in his bare hands, crushed it into a snowball and flung it at Merlin’s head.

“Ow!”

It hadn’t managed to get his hat off, although it had left a fine white imprint there, so Arthur threw another one. He was reaching for a third when Merlin started to retaliate. Merlin was small and skinny, but he was also very quick and matched Arthur snowball for snowball.

Shadow apparently thought all the snowballs were for him and darted madly between the two boys, trying to catch the flying missiles.

“Arthur! Come and put your gloves on!” Hunith called, but he ignored her. It was an excellent opportunity to get back at the boy who had come in and invaded his home, always there when Arthur would have liked to have Hunith all to himself. A large ball of snow hit him smack in the face, and he doubled his efforts.

Merlin squealed, ducked, and threw more snow. Shadow barked, running round them both and loving the game.

“Arthur!” Hunith had appeared in the doorway waving his gloves. “Put these on before your hands freeze! Oh _boys_! Stop it!”

Neither boy let up for a moment.

“Merlin!” Hunith called. “Stop it.”

And Merlin, used to obeying his mother, did just that. It was a perfect opportunity to lob a snowball right in his face. Merlin spluttered indignantly, and went for a fresh missile.

“What the hell is going on? What’s all this racket?”

Arthur paused, horrified, as his father strode out into the garden… straight into the path of the snowball Merlin chose that moment to throw at Arthur.

Arthur stared at the snow slowly sliding down his father’s face. Instinctively, he moved a little closer to Merlin, standing between the younger boy and his furious father. Merlin looked as if he was going to cry.

“Inside! Both of you! Now!”

Neither boy waited to be told twice, almost falling over each other to get back into the house. Shadow gave a low whine and followed them.

“He’s shouting at Mum,” Merlin whispered as they struggled out of their wet coats. “He won’t sack her, will he? She likes it here.”

Arthur gazed out of the window at his purple-faced father who was ranting on and on about Merlin and his poor behaviour and how it was rubbing off on Arthur. Hunith was just standing there, taking it. He hoped she wouldn’t leave.

“It’s your fault,” he whispered back.

“You threw the first one!”

“You hit my father!”

“He’s horrible.”

“Anyway,” they heard Uther finish, with words that sent a chill through Arthur. “Arthur will be off to boarding school in the summer. The best. There’ll be no bad influences there. Try to keep your son under control in the meantime, Mrs Emrys.”

Boarding school. He’d be sent away.

Arthur felt Merlin’s gaze on him, but for once there was silence from his nemesis.

Arthur didn’t have anything to say either.


	5. Christmas 2005

Arthur was back.

It had been a quiet couple of months since a big car had driven up and taken Arthur off to his new school. He’d looked very smart in his uniform, unlike the red sweatshirts that the village school favoured. He even had a little cap to wear. Merlin had wanted to laugh, but Arthur had looked so unhappy about going away that he decided not to.

Merlin had walked Shadow every day since then. It was starting to feel more as if the dog was his, until Arthur had strode through the door and Shadow had run up to greet him enthusiastically.

“He does that to everyone,” Merlin muttered jealously.

Apparently boarding school was wonderful. Arthur had a new friend called Leon and he wouldn’t stop talking about him and all the things they got up to. It was very boring. Leon was the son of an earl or something, and even Mr Pendragon approved of him.

“Perhaps he can come and visit us in the summer?” his mother suggested. “He sounds lovely.”

Merlin couldn’t think of anything less fun. Leon sounded posh. He wondered if his own friend, Will, would be able to stay too. Just to even up the numbers.

Arthur’s father was away over Christmas, so it was just the three of them for Christmas dinner. Merlin would have preferred it if it was just his mother, but he was used to having to share her with Arthur now. Even though Arthur was supposed to be so much older and more mature, he’d still rushed up to her for a hug as soon as he’d seen her.

Mother stealer.

His mother had bought them crackers. That was great, they hadn’t been allowed those before. Mr Pendragon didn’t like the noise they made, or the silly hats. Or the silly jokes. Or the gift.

The gift was the best part as far as Merlin was concerned. He was sure Arthur, with his brand new Xbox360, wouldn’t think so though.

“Now, we all hold the cracker in our right hand, cross our arms and take hold of the cracker next to us,” his mother told them.  “And then we pull.”

Merlin could see Arthur keeping a firm, determined grip on his cracker, a thumb over the central part. There was a challenge in his eyes. As usual.

“Ready?” His mother beamed at them both. “Pull!”

The three crackers separated with a trio of small bangs. Merlin found himself holding the remnants of two cracker-ends.

“Oh look, I have a pretty hair slide,” his mother smiled, holding up the hideous yellow plastic thing.

Arthur was holding the business end of two crackers, and looking far too pleased with himself. “I won them both!”

Merlin snatched at the one nearest him, but Arthur swung it out of reach.

“That’s mine!”

“I won it. That’s how crackers work, _Mer_ -lin.”

“But it’s not fair. Where’s my hat?”

Arthur looked at both crackers then pulled out a pink cracker hat and put it in front of Merlin. It wasn’t the one that was in what had been Merlin’s cracker. “There. You can have the girl colour.” He brought out a blue hat from the other cracker, and put it on his head. “And look! I get two toys!”

“Muuuum!”

Beside him, he heard his mother give a heavy sigh. “Now, boys…”

 


	6. Christmas 2006

Arthur was 12 years old when his father decided that they should go away for Christmas on a skiing holiday.

It was exciting at first, all that snow, and the thrill of learning how to ski. By the end of the holiday he hoped to be out on the slopes, skiing properly without the need for an instructor. Perhaps his father would ski with him?

Arthur’s father was off on the advanced slopes. He spent most of his time there. Apparently there was an important business deal in the offing, and people to impress. Arthur saw him in the evenings, if he came back to the chalet before Arthur had fallen asleep.

The ski instructors were nice enough, all the staff were. But when Christmas Day arrived they obviously wanted to be elsewhere. Arthur thought of home, of Hunith and her delicious home-cooked dinner and her cuddles when she noticed he was feeling sad. He thought of Shadow, whom he’d had to leave behind. Merlin was probably feeding him treats and taking him for walks. Shadow had probably forgotten all about Arthur.

Merlin was so lucky. He had Shadow _and_ Hunith. Arthur just had a new Playstation 3 that he couldn’t use until he got home.

Uther was working on his laptop in the corner. He had been for most of the day, when he wasn’t on the phone or off with the people he said were important.

Arthur wished that he was important.


	7. Christmas 2007

Taking his son away skiing for Christmas each year was turning out to be an excellent idea. Uther Pendragon paused briefly from the email he was writing to consider how well things were turning out. He’d managed to arrange a new contract for Camelot Industries, catch up a little on some of his backlog, and he’d even managed to fit in a little skiing again this year. Well, once anyway.

Arthur seemed to be getting along very well, from what Uther had been told. He’d progressed from the nursery slopes quite quickly, and his instructor had assured Uther that Arthur was developing into an excellent skier. It was only to be expected, of course. Arthur had been brought up to try to be the best at everything he did. It was heartening to know that he was doing exactly that.

Uther was very proud of his son. Perhaps, if he had time, he might try to go skiing with him before they flew back to Britain. He could give Arthur some pointers, help him improve.

His phone beeped for attention, so Uther returned to his work.


	8. Christmas 2008

For the first time in three years, Arthur was home for Christmas. He hadn’t been too disappointed when his father had called to say that there would be no skiing trip this year. In fact, he was quite excited at the thought of spending the holiday at home, with Shadow and Hunith. And even Merlin, if he was honest. It was better than sitting by himself listening to his new iPod Touch like he had last year, while his father worked and worked. He could take Shadow out for long, long walks. He could sit with Hunith in the kitchen and watch her cook. He might even try to help. She tended to shoo him away because he was hopeless at cooking, but he’d been taking GCSE Cookery at school for the past few months, so things might be different.

It was a wonderful Christmas, all in all. Merlin wasn’t even too annoying, at first…

The Nintendo Wii had, at first, seemed like a good present. Unfortunately there was only Merlin there to play it with him, but Arthur didn’t think that would be a problem. After all, it wasn’t as if Merlin would win or anything…

Fourteen games later, with the score at 9-5 to Merlin, and Arthur was forced to revise that theory. It wouldn’t have been so bad if the little git hadn’t insisted on doing a victory dance every single time he won. No, actually it would have been as bad. Arthur hated losing. And losing to Merlin… it was unthinkable.

“I’m bored with this,” Arthur announced. “It’s a stupid gift.”

Merlin swung his controller to the left, and hit another invisible ball past Arthur. “I like it,” he announced.

Well that was hardly surprising.

“You keep playing it then, I’m off to help your mum.”

“You can’t cook,” Merlin pointed out. He was, Arthur noticed, trailing after him again, the Wii abandoned.

Merlin was always so annoying. He probably wouldn’t be so keen to trail after Arthur if he realised what Arthur was. But that wasn’t something Arthur was ready to admit to anyone yet. Not even himself, not entirely.

Hunith was baking cookies. They smelled wonderful.

“You can take some back to school with you, Arthur,” she promised. “Something to remind you of home.”

She was icing some of them. They looked so pretty, all reds and greens and whites. Little stars and trees and candy canes.

“Can I do some?” Arthur asked. “I’m doing GCSE Cookery!”

“Oh my God!” Merlin exclaimed. “Please, Mum! Don’t make me eat anything he’s cooked!”

“Shut up, Merlin,” Arthur growled. Then he gave Hunith his best, most hopeful smile. It had worked better when he was little, but he’d noticed that she would still fall for it even now.

“Of course you can, sweetheart. Go and wash your hands.”

Merlin drew up a chair and watched them both at work. Hunith made the icing look so easy to do. Arthur… found that wasn't the case.

“Well,” said Hunith, after a little while. “It’s a first effort.”

Arthur looked at his cookies. Then he looked at Hunith’s.   He didn’t look at Merlin. He could hear the laughter.

It probably wasn’t too late to change courses…

Hunith's cookies...  And Arthur's... 


	9. Christmas 2009

Merlin, apparently, had started GCSE Cookery too.

Arthur sat in the living room of the expensive chalet his father had hired, high up on a mountain in Switzerland. It was cosy there, in front of the fire and he didn’t really feel like going out into the cold. Skiing wasn’t really that much fun. He’d had a great Christmas the year before with Hunith and Shadow. And, if he was honest, Merlin as well.

But Merlin was a cheeky little git. That was never going to change. For the first time ever he’d sent Arthur a Christmas card. It was tucked in with the gifts and card from Hunith and Shadow. The muddy paw print on the card from the latter never failed to make him smile, even though he was far too old for such silliness now.

Merlin’s card was homemade. There was a picture of a fancy gingerbread house on the front which had been photoshopped with ‘Happy Christmas Arthur’ over the top. Inside there was another photo – of Arthur’s icing efforts from the previous year.

“I’m doing cookery too,” the message inside told him. “Shall the pair of us apply for the Great British Bake-Off next year? Who do you think will WIN? Merlin xxxxx”

And it did make Arthur laugh, because although Merlin knew just how to wind him up it was a little piece of home, right there.

“What’s that?”

He’d almost forgotten his father was there. Only the steady tap of the keyboard from the desk by the far wall reminded him. He held up the card, as his father, unexpectedly, came over to take an interest in what he was doing.

Uther read the card, looked at the picture and raised an eyebrow. “Well, I suppose the boy’s inherited a few skills from his mother after all. Though really, can’t he afford a proper card? I pay Hunith a good salary.”

Which was true enough, Hunith had said so herself, though Arthur thought she was worth it and more.

“What’s this mess inside?”

Arthur cringed. “Well, I tried to ice some cookies last year… Merlin took a picture. It was before I changed courses.”

Uther frowned at Arthur’s efforts. “Really, Arthur, you don’t need to learn to cook. You can hire a housekeeper until you’ve found a wife to do that sort of thing for you.”

But by that stage Arthur had accepted that it wouldn’t be a wife that he’d be looking for. He looked at the picture of the gingerbread house.

Whoever it was, it would probably be for the best if they could cook.

 


	10. Christmas 2010

Skiing at Christmas, finally, was fun. Arthur had been allowed to bring Leon along. It meant that he didn’t miss home so much.

Uther still approved of Leon. Arthur wondered if he would be so keen if he realised Leon’s sexual preference. Arthur doubted it. Still, there was no need for his father to know. He’d find out, eventually, about Arthur and that would be shock enough. Arthur certainly didn’t want to be told that he was to find another best friend in the meantime.

Leon was his confidant, a fellow star of the school football team, the one he had first come out to. Together the pair of them were imposing enough that they could see off anyone who wanted to cause trouble or make homophobic comments. People thought they were together, and they were – in every way but the one those people meant. Arthur was closer to Leon than he’d ever been to anyone, and somehow that meant he was more like a brother to him than anything else. There was no sexual attraction on either side, and they were both happy to keep it like that. A friend was more important than a brief fling, after all.

Arthur had passed all his GCSEs in the summer, he’d started on his A levels, and was starting to think about university. His father wanted him to try for Oxbridge, of course, but Arthur wondered if there might be better courses elsewhere. Leon was looking at Bristol. It wasn’t so very far from home and didn’t seem so imposing. Plus if he wasn’t going to London or Manchester, then Bristol was also supposed to have a thriving gay community. There were a lot of reasons to go there. The only real reason not to was that his father wouldn’t be very pleased.

There was plenty of time to think about that. Arthur stood at the top of the run, ready to go. He’d beat Leon this time, he’d make sure of it.

Leon grinned at him through the ski mask. “Ready?”

And then they were off, racing through the snow, not a care in the world.

 


	11. Christmas 2011

When Arthur came home that Christmas, he noticed almost at once that there was something wrong.

He’d known Merlin since they were both little boys. Merlin had been cheeky and rude and playful, and always full of confidence. He’d been a bit reserved during the summer when Arthur had come back, but not like this. The sullen teenager who got up and left the room as soon as Arthur arrived wasn’t that same little boy that Arthur had known.

“Hi Merlin,” he called after the retreating figure. There was something mumbled in reply but Arthur couldn’t make out what.

Hunith glanced after him worriedly, then made an obvious effort to put on a cheerful face. “Welcome home, sweetheart. Goodness, you’ve grown so tall!” She barely came up past his chest now and gave a little squeak, laughing when he swept her off her feet in a bear hug. “Arthur!”

It was good to be home. Shadow was right there, wagging his tail enthusiastically, knowing there were going to be lots of extra walks. During the summer, Arthur and Merlin had walked him together sometimes. The dog had adored that and Arthur had been hoping for more. But Merlin’s strange behaviour didn’t seem to be a one-off. He looked downcast, even on Christmas Day. Arthur could see Hunith was worried.

He caught her alone in the kitchen. Merlin had taken Shadow for a walk.

“What’s the matter with him?”

Then he could see the worry and fear in her eyes, a mother’s concern for her son. It was something he could never expect to have, but he fought down the pang of envy. He had no doubt that Hunith cared for him too, and that would have to be enough.

“Oh Arthur, I don’t know. I think he’s having problems at school, but he won’t talk about it. His friend, Will… you know Will?”

Arthur nodded. He didn’t like Will much, and the feeling was mutual. But Will and Merlin had been friends since they were small.

“Well, they’ve had some sort of fight. I don’t know what about, Merlin won’t tell me. But Will seems to be with a different crowd these days. And Merlin… well, you’ve seen how he is. The school called me in because his grades are slipping. It’s the first year of his A levels, Arthur. I want him to do well, get a place at a good university. Perhaps you could talk to him?”

“Merlin and I have never really got along,” Arthur admitted. “And he’s been avoiding me like the plague.”

“Oh, I think you’ve been better for the past few years. I think he would. He likes you, Arthur.”

“He’s got a funny way of showing it,” Arthur muttered.

Hunith put her hand on his arm. “Please try. I’m so worried about him.”

And so, the following morning, Arthur tried. He hurried out after Merlin when he took Shadow on his early morning walk. Merlin glanced round, saw him, and handed over the lead.

“I thought we could walk together,” Arthur attempted, but Merlin was already trotting back to the house.

“He’s your dog,” Merlin called.

Arthur looked down at Shadow, who was looking up at him and panting eagerly. Shadow had never, ever just been Arthur’s dog and they all knew it.

He tried again that afternoon when he caught Merlin sitting reading a comic book, but to no avail. Merlin looked slightly panic-stricken, and actually blushed slightly but perhaps that was Arthur’s imagination. Whatever it was, Merlin made an excuse and left the room.

Arthur tried several more times during his break, but there was the same response every time.

“I’m sorry,” he said to Hunith on the final day. His bags were all packed and in the hallway, ready to be loaded into the car when it arrived for him. “He really doesn’t want to talk to me. As far as he’s concerned, I’m just the prat who bullied him when he was little, remember?”

Hunith smiled at the memory, though he was old enough now to realise that they had both probably been the biggest pains in her arse possible.

“I don’t think he sees you like that any more, not really. Thank you for trying, anyway.”

“I’ll go and say goodbye, give it one last try.”

She hugged him. “Thank you, Arthur. You’re a good boy.”

He shrugged. “Maybe. Put a good word in for me when my father finds out I don’t want to go to Oxbridge.”

Hunith winced. “It’s your life, Arthur. Remember that.”

It _was_ his life. Sometimes, when he’d been growing up and his father had been planning it all out for him, it hadn’t seemed as if that were the case. Things seemed different now. He’d spent so long away at school, his father cold and distant even on the rare occasion Arthur did see him, that he didn’t seem as intimidating any more. The worst Uther could do was cut him off, and Arthur doubted he would go that far. It wasn’t as if the universities he wanted to go to weren’t good ones. And if he did… well, Arthur would worry about that if it happened.

Merlin was in the living room, taking down the Christmas decorations. He froze when Arthur came in, just for a moment, then carried on with what he was doing.

“I’m off back to school in a minute. Just came in to say goodbye.”

“Bye.” Merlin carried on plucking baubles from the tree.

“You know,” Arthur said, moving over to the tree and trying to ignore the weary sigh that Merlin gave when he did so. “Whatever it is that’s going on with you, if you told me about it right now I’ll be gone soon and won’t be able to make any sort of judgement. I’ll be far away and by the time I’m back again it’ll probably all be over.”

“It won’t be over,” Merlin assured him. He picked up an empty box and started to pack the baubles away. “Close the door when you go, or Shadow’ll be in here messing all this up.”

It was one small step closer than he’d managed to get before. Arthur went over and closed the door, then went back to Merlin.

“Well?”

“You were supposed to go through it first.”

“Funny. Talk. You’re upsetting your mum, I want to know why.”

“It’s always about my mum with you, isn’t it?” Merlin sighed.

“She’s been good to me. I don’t like to see her upset. And this might surprise you, but I don’t like seeing you upset either. Now tell me what’s wrong. Is it Will?”

Merlin was silent for a moment, regarding the bauble he was holding carefully, as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

“Yes,” he said finally. “Yes, it’s Will.”

Arthur waited for him to continue.

“Will doesn’t want anything to do with me. See, he thinks everyone should be the same, and he didn’t like it when I told him that I’m not the same as him.”

It sounded familiar. “There’s nothing wrong with being different.”

“Like you’d know.” Merlin was toying with the bauble now, passing it nervously between his hands. “I thought I could trust Will. We’ve been friends ever since I moved here. So, I thought I could talk to him, tell him what was going on, but…” He fumbled, and the bauble fell from his fingers, smashed on the floor. Merlin stared down at it for a moment, then looked Arthur in the eye, defiant. “I’m gay. And Will hasn’t told anyone, but he doesn’t want to hang around with me any more. Go on then. I suppose you’ve got a thousand things to say about it.”

“Only two,” Arthur stooped to carefully gather up the pieces of the smashed ornament. “Will’s an idiot, but I’ve told you that before. I wish you’d told me about this at the start of the holiday. But talk to your mum. When I told her _I_ was gay, she just hugged me and said she didn’t care, she loved me whatever. She loves you a lot more. So talk to her.”

Merlin just stared at him, speechless. And Arthur couldn’t say any more, because Hunith was calling to him that the car was here and he’d run out of time.

“I have to go. I’ll see you in the Easter or summer holidays, I guess. But you know, you can call me if you want to talk about it. Email me if that’s easier. Will you do that?”

“I… _You’re_ gay?”

“Must be something in the water, eh?”

And for the first time during that entire Christmas break, Arthur saw Merlin smile.


	12. Christmas 2012

There was something about Merlin.

Arthur had first noticed it, briefly, in that moment the previous Christmas when Merlin had smiled at him, just before Arthur had to leave. He’d noticed it more when he’d been back at Easter, when Merlin seemed brighter and happier and far closer to his old self.

Arthur hadn’t come home for the summer. His father had sent him straight off to America to work in a summer camp. It was to teach him about team building and responsibility, apparently, and if he wanted to be supported through his poor university choice then Arthur would do as he was told. Arthur’s rebellious streak didn’t stretch to outright stupidity, and he went along with what his father wanted. He suspected that it was just that Uther had heard about Merlin’s preferences and didn’t want them anywhere near each other. Arthur supposed that when he finally did come out to his father, Merlin would probably be blamed.

Being kept apart hadn’t made a lot of difference. The ice finally broken, they’d used email and texts, and occasionally Skype to keep in regular touch, much more closely than they ever had before. Arthur heard that Will had calmed down a bit and was at least acknowledging Merlin now. He still thought the idiot deserved a punch in the face, but Merlin was more forgiving. And, as the year went by, Merlin seemed to have a new friend.

Arthur wasn’t sure what he thought of Gwaine. Merlin talked about him a lot, and they seemed to be spending a lot of time together. That should be a good thing, he told himself. Merlin had a friend he could talk to, someone to hang out with. But Arthur had started to like being the one Merlin confided in. And Gwaine sounded cocky, unreliable. It was, Arthur decided, his duty to go home for the Christmas holidays and make sure Merlin wasn’t being led astray.

Leon agreed. “You’re the nearest thing he’s got to a big brother, you should be looking out for him,” he commented.

Leon was probably right, Arthur thought. But he didn’t think of Merlin as any sort of brother. Somehow, the housekeeper’s son had blossomed in the past year and didn’t look like a little boy any more. As Christmas approached, Arthur realised with some surprise that he was looking forward to seeing Merlin even more than he was Shadow and Hunith. There was no risk of being sent off on a skiing holiday. Uther was still far too angry with Arthur for not following him to Oxford. He probably thought not spending Christmas on a freezing cold mountain top was a punishment.

And so, a week before Christmas, Arthur was home. Leon was with him, just for a couple of days. Arthur wasn’t sure why he seemed so keen, not at first.

All through the year, Merlin had been working in his spare time, saving up for university. He’d worked in a shop over the summer break, and now he was helping out with Gwaine at the local Christmas tree farm.

“All those trees,” complained Hunith. “And he still hasn’t brought one back for the house. Arthur, you couldn’t be a darling and go down to pick it up? He says he’s put one aside, he just can’t carry it back on his bike.”

“We’d love to,” Leon answered. “I can meet Merlin. I’ve heard a lot about him.”

And that was when Arthur suddenly began to suspect just why Leon, who was between boyfriends, had wanted to visit.

The Christmas tree farm was huge, wet and muddy. It opened every year at that time, employed temps for a week or two, and then promptly closed. It was only going to be open for a few more days.

Arthur met Gwaine without even realising it at first. He was lounging in a chair by the till, not actually doing anything as far as Arthur could see, although admittedly the place was half-empty. Most people had bought their trees early in December, and only a few stragglers were still coming in. Leon had wandered off to see if there were any decent trees left, so Arthur went looking for Merlin.

“Excuse me,” Arthur began.

“Posh!” Gwaine raised an eyebrow but didn’t stop lounging in the chair.

“I’m looking for Merlin Emrys, I understand he works here?”

“And you are?”

“A friend of his.”

Gwaine did sit up at that, and stuck out his hand. Arthur regarded it dubiously for a moment then shook it.

“Gwaine Greene. I’m a friend of his too. Though I bet he’d be better pleased to see… who are you then?”

“Arthur.” He didn’t really like the way Gwaine grinned and looked him up and down.

“Arthur! I’ve heard about you. You _are_ posh!”

Gwaine definitely wasn’t posh. He was quite scruffy, and needed a haircut. Although Arthur thought that if he had hair like that, he would wear it long and flick it around as if he were in a shampoo ad as well.

“Can you just tell me where I can find Merlin?”

Gwaine smiled, and pointed towards the back door. He really was the most unhelpful shop assistant ever, Arthur thought. It was a wonder they’d managed to sell anything.

Nearly half an hour later, and Arthur was ready to throttle Gwaine. He’d not been able to find Merlin, his shoes were covered in mud and he was cold and wet. He was about to give it up as a bad job, find Leon and go home, when Leon found him instead.

“Arthur! I’ve met Merlin.” He was grinning all over his face. “You didn’t tell me he was gorgeous! I know he’s like a little brother to you, so I’m just checking. It’s okay with you if I ask him out, yes? He seemed keen.”

Arthur’s day was just getting worse. “Whatever,” he sighed. “Can we get the tree and go?”

Leon’s smile just broadened. “I’ll go and get it. Merlin will know where it is.”

Arthur was struck by the sudden urge to just drive off and leave them there. He should be pleased, he knew, for both his friends. But he wasn’t.

“Arthur!” called a familiar voice.

Merlin was heading down the path towards him, a huge, delighted smile on his face. “You’re back!”

Leon was right, he was gorgeous. A little older, a little less thin in the face, far more attractive in person than he was over the internet.

“Your mother sent me to collect the tree.” And then, because he couldn’t help himself. “Why aren’t you with Leon?”

“Leon? Your friend Leon? Why would I be with Leon? I’ve never even met him.” Merlin suddenly looked past him, further down the lane, where Leon and Gwaine were carrying a large trussed up tree towards them.   “Ah. There’s Gwaine.”

“And Leon,” Arthur noted. The two of them didn’t seem to be in any particular hurry. In fact, as Arthur watched, they put the tree down and stood there kissing each other instead. He wondered why Gwaine would have pretended to be Merlin. But then, from the stories he’d heard from Merlin, Gwaine might just have done it for the hell of it.

“Another week, another conquest for Gwaine,” Merlin grumbled. “Your friend’s just his type. And what are _you_ looking so pleased about?”

Arthur leaned back against his car, unable to stop the huge smile that had split his face.

“It’s just good to see you again,” he admitted. “And not just over the internet.”

“We can talk over the internet,” Merlin pointed out.

“We can,” Arthur agreed, taking a step forward so that he was right in Merlin’s personal space. “But we can’t do this.”

And he kissed him, just to make his intentions perfectly clear.

Judging by how enthusiastically Merlin kissed him back, they were definitely on the same page now. It was, Arthur thought, going to be a great Christmas.

 


	13. Christmas 2013

Hunith paused in the open doorway to the living room and cautiously peeked inside.

Arthur and Merlin had been putting up the decorations. Neither of them were children any more (as she was constantly reminded these days whenever she saw them together) but the racket they’d been making suggested otherwise. Much as she loved her son, Merlin definitely should never be allowed to sing in public. Quite possibly he should be banned from singing in the house as well. Perhaps she’d get Arthur some earplugs for Christmas. She was rather glad that Uther hadn’t been home to witness it.

There were many things that it was best that Uther didn’t witness. He’d not reacted _quite_ as badly as they’d expected to the news that his son and heir was not only gay but was shagging the offspring of the hired help. Not that his reaction could actually be considered good… He wouldn’t be home for Christmas, to the relief of everyone. Hunith wondered if the man realised that was how they felt. Or if he even cared.

Now, all was quiet and had been for a while. She wondered if it was safe to enter. The door was open, and that was normally a good sign. Someone had stuck some candy canes on it, paired together to make the shape of hearts. She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. They really were the soppiest pair, her boys. At least they’d thought to stick them high enough that there was no danger of the dog getting at them. Shadow was asleep in front of the fire, no doubt worn out by all the excitement earlier. He was quite an elderly dog now but that didn’t stop him running around at every opportunity for any sort of fun. He’d had an awful lot of fun in his life.

It was definitely for the best that Uther wouldn’t be home. She hoped there wouldn’t be a surprise visit as it would be best if he didn’t see this. There was nothing tasteful or refined about the decorating that had been done this year. Arthur’s input, she guessed. He’d always had about as much artistic talent as a hamster. The tree was a mass of uncoordinated baubles and the tinsel looked as if someone had thrown it at the tree. All around the room there were similar touches – a garland not quite level across the fireplace, and lopsided tinsel hanging around picture frames. And of course there was a large sprig of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling. She would have to tidy it all up a bit when they were out. Or, perhaps she’d just get them to pose in front of it with Shadow and send the picture round as her Christmas card.

She’d been apprehensive a year ago when they’d got together, anticipating the fight to end all fights bringing things to a harsh and difficult end with her in the horrible position of wanting to comfort them both. Fortunately that hadn’t happened, and they seemed every bit as happy as they had back then. Settled, even. She smiled fondly down at the pair of them, cuddled up together on the sofa, fast asleep. Merlin was on his back and softly snoring, though it wasn’t quite as bad as his singing, Arthur curled around him.

She carefully put a throw over them both and tiptoed out.

 


	14. Christmas 2014

It was their first Christmas in their tiny flat, and Arthur wanted everything to be perfect.

They’d be home on Christmas Day, obviously, because there was no way either of them were ever going to miss out on Hunith’s Christmas dinner. But Christmas Eve was going to be all about them.

Merlin was cooking them a meal. That was good because Arthur could barely do more than boil an egg (which he thought was far more complicated than it sounded, what with all the potential for it being too hard or too runny, or just breaking and expanding everywhere). Arthur’s job was to scour the stores for discount decorations. He’d been to Poundland, and he was quite proud of how much he’d managed to obtain for so little. Gwaine and Leon had given them a tree, and the flat had a lovely pine scent that almost blocked out the faint damp smell.

It was only until he graduated in the summer, and then he could go and get a full-time job and they wouldn’t be so broke all the time. Not that Arthur minded. He sort of liked being broke with Merlin, both of them doing the penniless student thing. His father had drawn the line at paying for anything more than his studies if he intended living with Merlin, but he knew he was luckier than most just getting that paid for. And it didn’t matter. What mattered was Merlin.

The streets were bright with Christmas lights, the shop windows attractive and enticing. Arthur tried not to look, he knew the so-called ‘lifestyle emporium’ shops were full of over-priced decorations and Christmas tat that would all be on 50% reduction the following week.

But his eyes were drawn to the decorations in one particular window. They were, Arthur thought, the very best idea ever. It was a bit tacky, perhaps, but those four little red hearts with their excellent question would look just perfect on their tree. It was £10 for the set though. They were supposed to be being careful.

Arthur gazed longingly at them. He could, he supposed, try to make them himself. They probably wouldn’t look quite the same.

 _Stuff being careful,_ he thought, and went into the shop. He came back out a few minutes later with a brightly-coloured bag. There were some things you just didn’t scrimp on.

But he thought he might hide the receipt, just to make absolutely sure that he got the answer he wanted…

Of course, he did.

 


End file.
